


Blue Jeans, White Shirt

by Angemicwings



Series: Make My Heart Burn [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark, Lust, Multi, Secret Relationship, Sex, affair, keeping secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 01:35:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angemicwings/pseuds/Angemicwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester knows he should not be doing this, it was just meant to be that one time they had sex, but he can't help himself, he feels that itch, that itch that he wants more and more and before he realises it, he is getting himself in too deep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Jeans, White Shirt

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Lana del Rey's Blue Jeans, White Shirt and first fic on ao3 so please be kind!

Dean is awake, staring at the ceiling, listening to his brother's breathing, waiting for him to go to sleep. But Sam is taking his time going into his slumber and Dean bites back the frustration that makes his heart pound in his chest. There is a warm ember that is in his gut, an itch he needs to scratch, his thirst needs to be quenched and waiting for Sam to go to sleep is driving him crazy.

When he finally hears Sam's breathing slow to a deep low rhythm, Dean is off the bed grabbing his jacket and his keys and when he reaches the door, he looks back to his brother and his face creases into a fond gaze. He quietly opens the door, ignoring the twisting guilt in his stomach when he realises just what he is keeping this from Sam. But it is for his safety. It's doesn't involve Sam so Dean won't involve him but it still sticks in his stomach keeping stuff from Sam.

He hisses when the cold December air hits his skin, taking the air from his lungs and making it stick in his mouth and burn his throat and his face fixes into a determined grimace as he walks to the Impala, when he sits in the car he catches his eyes in the rear view mirror he quickly looks away, not sure whether he can even look at himself.

He drives across town to another motel on the other side of town, avoiding the rear view mirror and trying to ignore the ember that is starting to warm his gut, he knows he should not be doing this, he shouldn't be doing this but here he is and as he pulls into the parking space.

He snaps the keys out of the ignition and closes his eyes, trying to still his heart and ignoring the guilt in his stomach trying to focus on that warm ember in his gut. It's so still, he watches his breath evaporate in the air and everything seems to slow down and he hears everything so much more, the scrape of his boots over the tarmac, the distant traffic on the road, the pumping steam hissing from the heating pipes of the motel.

The itch is driving him crazy and he looks to the stars as if to seek some advice that he knows he would not accept. His hand hovers over the handle of the door of number 13; he bites his lip to stop the ironic wry smile that would have normally filled his face. He pushes the door open, quick to walk through and to shut the door, looking at the bloody sigils that are written all over the walls and windows, the salt at the windowsill, the devils trap at the door.

Only when he knows he is completely hidden and only then does he lets his eyes travel to the figure standing in the doorway to the bathroom. Castiel is drying his hands and Dean doesn't say anything, he just stares into those blue eyes which stare back and he tries to ignore the skip his heart makes when he sees that the angel isn't wearing his coat and his tie, his shirt is unbuttoned slightly at the top.

Dean shrugs his jacket off and throws it on one of the chairs, his gaze fleeting on to the bed, the butterflies in stomach being burnt by the ember that is now starting to threaten to ignite in his gut. He turns from Castiel, facing the door. What was he doing here? Why was he going to let this happen again? He doesn't say anything but he could just walk back out of here, but he knows he won't.

He hears Castiel drop the towel on the floor and walk to stand behind him and Dean feels his breathing hitch as he feels Castiel's breath on his shoulders, he can feel the warmth from the body behind him and he knows for sure that he isn't going to walk out of that door.

Castiel presses a kiss on to Dean's neck and Dean hisses loudly as Castiel mouths his hairline, "You came," he breathed. Dean grits his teeth as he turns to face the angel, "You knew I would," he growls as he looks into those blue eyes that are just full of lust for him. In a split second his lips are plunged onto the angels and the burning ember in his gut ignites into a burning fire.

All those thoughts of guilt, of disgust in the rear view mirror are burnt away by the flames of his lust as he makes quick work of undoing Castiel's white shirt while, their kiss passionate as Dean's heart pulsates insanely in his head sending blood quickly to other places in his body.

The angel claws at Dean, pulling his t-shirt off and tugging at the belt at his belt, moaning into Dean's mouth as they push back on to the bed. Dean's head is foggy with lust as he presses his lips against Castiel's collarbone, the angel gasps, and Dean is starting to know the angel's body too well.

Castiel fumbles with the jean's buttons but straddles Dean, gently leaning down he places kisses on his neck, moving slowly down Dean's chest and Dean has to close his eyes as he feels his body burn, under the angel's tongue. Castiel sucks at his navel and Dean moans, his hips bucking up as he knows he is hard under those blue jeans. Dean pulls at Castiel's trousers, knowing now he is just desperate to feel his Castiel's skin against his.

In the burning mess, time blurs and they are naked moving against each other, letting their bodies melt together, melt into one. Dean bites the angel's shoulder; Castiel sucks at Dean's neck as the pace picks up frantically.

That itch is being satisfied, he needs to feel the burning fire, he needs to quench his thirst and he needs to hear his name on the angel's lips like a prayer, which Castiel says reverently over and over again.

And in return Dean says his in a whisper.

Afterwards as Castiel lies in Dean's arms, they don't talk and Dean tries to calm his contradicting thoughts, wondering how he got here when he knows exactly how he got here. Yet none of this was ever meant to happen. Dean is straight, he is a straight guy, he loves women and yet here he is in bed with a man, yeah he may be an angel, but his vessel is a man.

He has never looked at a man, till Cas. And Cas is his best friend; he is a shitty friend to do this to him. The angel is so broken and yet so is Dean; it was perhaps always going to happen between them after everything they had gone through. But it's just meant to be sex. Like always. Satisfying a craving because Dean is straight, he just needed Cas.

And Cas returned from purgatory, he had to tell him that he didn't want him, that he wanted to stay in purgatory, but that it wasn't Dean's fault that he had been left there. That not everything in existence was Dean's responsibility and it made Dean feel that everything that they had gone through had meant nothing.

Those conversations just seemed to tighten something in Dean's chest; every conversation afterwards led to an argument and it wound the tension up like a rope pulled taut. It was always going to snap. It had snapped shortly after Castiel's first hunt, just him and Cas in the Impala driving to get food and Dean had tried to talk about Purgatory and before you know it they were in an argument that meant the car being pulled off on to a dark country road, two men who cared about each other too much, screaming in the middle of the road, pouring out their anger and resentment at each other.

And after the explosion, all that was left was desire, lust and need.

Castiel had stood so close, personal space was something he had never understood, but he understood the undertone of desire, their faces were so close together and Dean had watched him lick his lip, his lustful eyes staring before he pulled away, awaiting the anger and disgust to come his way from Dean, but the hunter hadn't shouted, instead he grabbed Castiel's wrist, the angel feebly tried to pull away "Don't" Dean growled, feeling an itch on his skin that needed scratched as he plunged his lips on to Castiels.

Dean wasn't gay, he hadn't known what he was doing on that dark night, but it didn't stop him, didn't stop him pinning Castiel to the car bonnet, pulling their trousers down and rutting hard against each other, feeling the fire in his gut, telling him it was good, telling him it was what he wanted, what he needed, that he wanted to hear Cas scream his name into the star filled sky.

Afterwards, he had to admit that he had felt sick, that although it somehow felt right, it wasn't, he felt sick for using Cas because they were meant to best friends who cared about each other. He had dragged the angel down far enough without pulling him into deep sin, that's what it had been hadn't it?

They had agreed that it was a one off, that it was too risky to become too close, angels, demons, monsters would use it against them and Dean wasn't sure he wanted to ever do that again. The guilt sickened him when he saw the hurt in Castiel's eyes replaced by a steely stoicism. And they couldn't be caught doing that, they couldn't. He was a hunter, known for loving women and he wasn't gay.

It was a one off and it was going to be their secret. It had just been sex, Dean had told himself, just that one time he had sex with Cas. But it soon turned out that it wasn't just that one time. His skin itched for Castiel's touch, the fire in his gut hadn't burned to ashes only embers and Dean felt the need and desire between them reach fever pitch.

It was surprisingly easy to cast a spell, sigils on walls, hex bags on necks to keep them hidden from prying eyes while they kissed and stroked each other in alleys, went down on each other in toilets in service stations. Dean hadn't thought about guilt when he took Castiel's virginity in a motel room at the time, all he felt about was the raw need within him, to feel that fire in his gut melt the pair together.

But he had afterwards; looking at those wide now not so innocent blue eyes, now starting to become glassy with resignation that all Dean was offering was sex. Dean hated the secrecy, he didn't want Sam to know because he wasn't sure how his brother would react, it was his dirty little secret and Sam didn't need to know, but hadn't the Winchester Brothers learnt by now, that keeping secrets always led to trouble.

Feeling Castiel gently press his lips against Dean's chest, the hunter knew he shouldn't be here, there were a thousand reasons why he shouldn't be here and yet he revelled in the lips that pressed against his skin, the worship in those lips. He cared about Castiel but perhaps too much to be in a relationship so here they were, having sex, both pretending that was all they wanted.

He knew he was in shit situation, one he should get out of before he was in too deep and yet he knew he wasn't going to attempt to get out. Cas was a drug to him, he needed him, he needed to satisfy the addiction that made his skin itch and his gut burn.

He didn't want to hurt Cas and when he looks down at those blue eyes he knows he is hurting Cas. Dean isn't gay, but perhaps he isn't straight either.

Castiel let his lips drift from Dean's chest up to Dean's lip, where he places a long and deep kiss, flicking his tongue against Dean's and Dean feels himself burn up and his mind feel like it is floating, his groin starting to flicker with interest.

"Tell me how you feel," Cas breathes on his lips as he breaks off the kiss, but his lips hang off Dean's "Dean..."

"You know I can't," Dean groans, his jaded eyes flash with warning, "Cas, you know I can't, we agreed," Cas moans and Dean continues, "This is not meant to be happening,"

"But it is," Cas sighs biting Dean's lower lip and Dean flinches.

Dean sighs and sits up, swinging his legs over the and hears the groan from Cas with a wince as he pulls his boxers and jeans on, he cares about Cas and feels sick about he is doing, perhaps he should end it but he knows he can't. He cares about Cas, more than anyone could ever know but he keeps that deep, letting it come to the surface would lead him down a route which would only end in pain.

Dean stands, looking for his t-shirt, "This is just meant to be sex, Cas," he points out, not trying to hurt Cas, more to persuade himself.

"I know," the angel replies, hugging his knees to his chest on the bed, his blue eyes flick up to the hunter and he raises his chin up defiantly "Why don't you end it then?"

"You know I can't," Dean sighs, sitting on the bed to put his socks and shoes on, he feels arms wrap around his chest, lips pressed on his neck and he closes his eyes, bliss and agony both shooting through his heart, he swallows, "It's just sex, Cas we agreed,"

"I know," Cas sighs, "So end it then,"

"Perhaps I should," Dean Replies, feeling his heart thump hard in his chest.

"You can't," Cas growls, close to Dean's ear "You won't"

Dean tries to scoff but it comes out in a strangled cough, "Why not?"

"Because you love me," Castiel breaths on his cheek.

Dean freezes completely, he feels his heart seize his chest at those simple words, those simple words that terrify and thrill him. He knows Cas loves him, he can see it in every look, he feels it in every caress, in every kiss, he knew the first time Cas entered him and stared in to his eyes, kissing away the pain.

But he can't say those words, he won't because he is a coward, he is too scared to admit them. Because this is all going to end in tears with broken hearts all round but he knows this won't be the last time they fuck in a motel room, he can feel the itch already starting on his skin, and the fire in his stomach isn't out, it's only smouldering.

He swallows back any answer, ignoring the scratch at his throat and the tears that threaten his eyes. "See ya Cas," he says gruffly, grabbing his jacket, not looking back, not wanting to see hurt in those blue eyes again. He closes the door behind him and tries to ignore the guilt in his stomach, this time not because he was having sex with the man behind his brothers back, but what he was doing to Cas. But Castiel, angel of the lord is too good for Dean Winchester, even though he knows that Castiel doesn't care if he is.

He get in the Impala, quickly switching the engine on, he can't go back into that motel room even though he knows it won't be long before he scratches the itch again. The local radio station fills the cold air and Dean stares at the window of the motel listening to the song letting the tears that blur his vision fall down his cheek.

_I will love you till the end of time_

_I would wait a million years_

_Promise you'll remember that you're mine_

_Baby can you see through the tears?_

_Love you more_

_Than those bitches before_

_Say you'll remember, oh baby, say you'll remember_

_I will love you till the end of time_


End file.
